


Silence is Music

by Liberte_Egalite_Broadway



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Canon Lesbian Relationship, Concerts, Established Relationship, F/F, Fluff, Good Omens References, I love these stupid music girlfriends, Maureen is a little grunge in this, Music, Night Vale: Desert Queertopia, Podcast WLW Week, SO, Slice of Life, Typical Night Vale Weirdness, because I'm very much grunge, but they're not the focus of the story at all, just a really brief throw-away thing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-11
Updated: 2019-04-11
Packaged: 2020-01-11 05:54:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18424242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Liberte_Egalite_Broadway/pseuds/Liberte_Egalite_Broadway
Summary: Maureen and Michelle go to a concert.





	Silence is Music

**Author's Note:**

> this fic contains a Good Omens reference. 
> 
> I just posted a Hester/Oleta fic less than an hour ago and now I'm posting this because queer women are so powerful and we just can't be contained. 
> 
> Please post to my collection.

"Are you sure we weren't supposed to turn left?" 

"Babe. Maureen. Like, it literally just told us to go right."

"Okay, sure, but maybe we were actually supposed to take a left." 

Michelle huffed. "Don't be a backseat driver."

"I'm sitting in the passenger seat."

"Yeah, so? That's the words' literal meaning. No one should use a word's literal meaning. That takes away the entire poetic purpose of the word."

"True." 

Michelle took her eyes off the road to glance at her girlfriend. Maureen was stunning, in her black skirt-overall-thing over a pink shirt. So grunge and alternative, but not in an over-stated way, in the typical holding-of-a-sign-that-reads OOH LOOK AT ME! I'M GRUNGE! way that most of the Night Vale alternative scene opted for. Maureen crossed her fishnetted legs and exhaled a cloud of candy cigarette smoke. Michelle had to force her eyes back onto the road. 

"This is a good playlist," said Maureen. "I like the ticking clock sounds." 

"Oh yeah, I added those to demonstrate how, you know, humanity is fleeting."

"So classy."

They listened to the ticking clocks over the great Tchaikovsky hit, "Another One Bites the Dust". Michelle drummed her short pink nails on the steering wheel. Maureen hummed along in that cute, off-beat way of hers. They could see lights glowing in the distance out the windshield, and different lights glowing in another distance out the right window, and both were beautiful. 

"I still think we should have gone left," Maureen said. 

"Baby. I love you like crazy. But please no backseat driving." Michelle pointed. "See? There's the concert venue right there."

Maureen shaded her eyes. This was unnecessary, but she still did it. "Huh. So it is." She opened the glove compartment and took out their tickets. Michelle parked between a giant Sheriff's secret police van and a worn-out rocking horse that had outdated registration. Maureen hopped out, her purse swinging from her shoulder. She took Michelle's hand. Gave it an excited squeeze. "This is pretty cool," she said. Michelle surveyed the concert venue before them. It was already fairly crowded, as this venue went. "Silence" was a great band. Michelle had seen them here twice before. 

"It's really cool," she agreed. "Being cool is mainstream -"

"-but okay," Maureen finished. She reached up and wiped at the corner of Michelle's mouth. "Your black lipstick is smudged."

Michelle felt her face get slightly hot as Maureen's face came closer to it. The other girl stuck her tongue between her teeth in concentration as her hand thumbed it away. "Black lipstick always smudges, right?" Michelle said, then immediately regretted saying something so stupid. 

"If you want, I could smudge it more."

She laughed. "I'm good. Let's go." 

The concert venue was open desert. People sat on folding chairs or on blankets or on empty sand, and they looked at the stage. A woman, a man, and a guitarist stood before microphones, and none of them played anything. That was the appeal of Silence. It was truly art. 

They laid out a picnic blanket and curled up together. When the music became especially moving, they, along with the rest of the audience, would tap their hands together slowly, a form of silent clapping that showed appreciation without creating sound. 

And they watched the stars together and listened to the music. 

**Author's Note:**

> Ah yes, the three genders: man, woman, and guitarist. 
> 
> This fic is part of WLW week, a collection I'm making (along with Jaybird_Wings!) to raise awareness for queer women in podcasts. The collection still runs for three more days before is closes on April 15th! Please consider posting!


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